


A Beautiful Lie

by TheChippingFeels



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:32:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChippingFeels/pseuds/TheChippingFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her story. Their story. Their story told by this world And it was all a lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beautiful Lie

Sometimes he wished he were cursed like everyone else. Sure, the idea that he was the only one besides Regina to have the knowledge of the curse and the true nature of the town was fantastic. But without magic he couldn’t figure out what to do with his time.  
  
He had already spent five years the town, he had figured out all the inter-workings of Storybrooke, he had nearly figured out who everyone was, and he had power, he owned the town.  
  
Yet everyday was the same.  
  
So Rumpelstiltskin, or Mr. Gold in this world, was stuck in a never-ending cycle of practically the same day. He had about 23 years to wait until the Savior came and broke the curse, then he could find his son.  
  
He had tried it earlier that year, he had figured out the geography of the new world and had a brief idea of how he could track down his son without magic, but right before he had crossed the town line his car has crashed. As it did the next time he tried. And the time after that.  
  
So he would have to wait.  
  
His shop amused him, he found the science of the new world fascinating despite himself, cars, phones, computers, they were like this world’s form of magic. Not nearly as good as the real thing, but good enough. Once in a while he thought about how Dr. Frankenstein, Dr. Whale in this world, would have loved how here technology and science dominated everything. He missed magic, he missed the power, the feeling of it running though his person, but he told himself he would have to get used to it. He still had 23 years.  
  
There was about a year in the first five years where Rumpelstiltskin had been particularly interested in this world’s form of storytelling called movies. Part of the curse was that he had basic knowledge of the new world, he knew how the technology worked but he didn’t know much about movies. So he collected some, Storybrooke had a small movie store and Mr. Gold bought an armful. Movies, he convinced himself, were this world’s real magic, especially the animated movie. The idea of bringing pictures to life was a magic that was done to smaller degrees in the Enchanted Forest, but he was interested in how they were made by mere mortals.  
  
The process of creating movies, he learned, was much more complicated than he though, and any hint of impression he had vanished. But he still enjoyed them, it was an easy way to learn about the culture around him.  
  
That was how he learned that in this world, he, and everyone else in the town, was a story.  
  
He hated this world’s version of his story, no, that wasn’t it, he was offended by it. True, he had made a deal with Cinderella and he had wanted her child, but the simple fable of Rumpelstiltskin had left out his son and his loss and his true power.  
  
He learned not to care that the wrong version of his tale had left out all the important parts.  
  
He had indulged himself in the animated stories, the stories this world constantly got wrong. Sometimes it was laughable and other times it angered him, but he learned not to care. More often then not Rumpelstiltskin enjoyed how wrong the stories were, when he saw this world’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves he was tempted to send it to Regina just to annoy her, but that would require revealing he had his memories, and he wasn’t sure she knew that herself.  
  
Depictions of Peter Pan and the Blue Fairy as wholesome and good beings made him practically boil with anger. Though depictions of Captain Hook and Ursula were incredibly amusing. It was a perfect way to pass his time.  
  
Until 1992.  
  
He had spent his day like he always did, in his pawnshop, taking rent, then go to the video store and find yet another movie, Mr. Gold practically had it down to a science.  
  
He had stopped tracking individual days by then, it had been almost 9 years since the curse, so he didn’t know the specific day when he had found that movie.  
  
The girl on the cover caught his attention, she was brunette and wearing a golden-yellow gown. She was beautiful, she looked like her, but he convinced himself she couldn’t be.  
  
Until he saw the cup.  
  
The small, white, cartoon cup had a chip.  
  
It couldn’t be.  
  
He grabbed the VHS and read the back. Belle. Belle. It was a story about a girl named Belle.  
  
Her story.  
  
Their story.  
  
Their story told by this world.  
  
Mr. Gold quickly bought the film.  
  
He didn’t know what to expect, he knew that these movies had a habit of romanticizing the truth, but with his story, no, her story, he wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing. In truth she was dead, in truth he cast her out, in truth her father had tortured her because she had loved him, in truth she had killed herself. Inside he blamed himself.  
  
He didn’t know what the lie would tell but in the end he decided it couldn’t hurt to find out.  
  
It hurt more than he ever could have imagined.  
  
Belle was not a peasant, she was a princess, she did not go with him just to save her father, she went with him to save everyone in her kingdom.  
  
Her father was nothing like his animated counterpart, he had not understood her love, he had tortured her and lead her to suicide.  
  
The cup did not speak, the castle wasn’t cursed, Gaston had never been a threat.  
  
Rumplestiltskin decided not to even think about how much they had left out of him, the Beast, he decided, was not him. This was a children’s movie, and the real monster would not be suitable for the audience. In truth, he knew he was not a man trapped inside a monster, he was a monster though and though. This was not his story, this was Belle’s story. Though it wasn’t.  
  
She did free the Beast of his curse in this version, she lived, she lived happily ever after.  
  
For a minute he lived in that lie, he watched the animated beauty dance with the monster and pictured it was them all along, Rumpelstiltskin pictured them living happily ever after, in a world were there weren’t other threats or issues.  
  
But it wasn’t real. As the film ended he had to remind himself of that.  
  
Because she was dead, she was dead because of him, and all he had left was an empty heart and a chipped cup.  
  
This was a lie and he knew it, it had been wonderful and sweet and happy, but it was a lie. And it was better and worse than anything he could have imagined.   
Rumpelstiltskin expected there to be a happy ending, for this world to assume there was one. But there wasn’t.  
  
He stopped the movie.  
  
It’s not real, it never was. He told himself as he took the VHS out and returned it to the cover, running a thumb across the face of the fake Belle.  
  
It had been a beautiful lie.


End file.
